


Assassins Creed Oneshots

by TheRo0ks



Series: Assassins Creed Oneshots [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 15:35:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRo0ks/pseuds/TheRo0ks
Summary: Just a bunch of random Assassins Creed Oneshots. Feel free to send me requests.





	1. Consequences (Haytham Kenway)

“That’s the problem with time.” She said shoving her hands in her pockets. “You think you have enough.” She said wistfully. 

Haytham’s eyes were sad. He knew that there was no hope for the two. Maybe when they were younger, but he knew Connor was coming and Haytham didn’t expect to survive long. It would be possible if he could manage to kill his son, but he knew deep down when it came to sinking his blade into his son’s neck it would be impossible. He cared for the boy no matter how much he grated on his nervous. Connor was a direct result from his own actions, and he was never the kind of man who passed the consequences onto someone else. (Y/N) hadn’t believed a word he’d told Charles. She knew he didn’t plan on rendezvousing with him. “Time has shown me what a fool I was.” He said simply clasping his hands behind his back. “I don’t regret Connor, but I regret you immensely.” He said looking at her soft (e/c) pools. “If only I had realized everything much sooner. Maybe things would have been different for us.” He said as he saw the pain flash in her eyes.

“You’re really going to do it? You’re going to let him kill you?” She asked trying to keep her voice controlled. Her throat felt tight as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

He sighed with a small nod, “I’ll put up a fight, but if he chooses to kill me then he will.” He said simply. He let his gaze settle into hers for a moment. He stepped close to her grasping her shoulders lightly, and she was engulfed in the scent of ink and tea. “This is how I always expected it to end for me.” He said softly. “This is my consequence. Once Connor realizes the consequences of his actions it’ll be too late, and he will have to live with his.” He said simply. He then reached into the inside of his pocket and pulled out a leather bound journal. “After all of this is over...would you give this to Connor for me?” Haytham requested.

She grasped the worn leather journal looking up at him, “Haytham what is this?”

“It’s my journal. It will tell him everything he needs to know about me, and his family.” He said his voice going soft at the end. “I want you to know that you deserve so much better than anything I could have given you.” Haytham said his grey eyes losing their steel.

She hung her head closing her eyes, “I’d like to think at one point we could have been happy.” 

Gently he tipped her chin up to gaze into her eyes, “every moment I spent with you I was happy.” He pressed his lips against hers. 

*  
**

He never did come back. (Y/N) found herself walking up the steps of the Homestead. Her Templar robes were in perfect order, and she knew coming on the premises could mean death. She had made Haytham a promise, so she proceeded to knock on the door. Her heart almost broke at the sight of the native. He looked so much like his father it physically pained her. He looked confused at her presence as he took in the red cross pinned to her lapel. “Connor Kenway?” She inquired.

“What’s this about?” He asked gripping the tomahawk at his side.

She took a deep breath, “your father Haytham sent me.”

“My father’s dead.” Connor said bluntly.

She looked down, “I know. He made me promise to give you this.” She said pulling out the worn journal. “He said it was his journal, and that it explains everything you’ll need to know about him, and your family.” She explained.

The boy seemed sad as he took the journal from her hands. “Thank you.” He said simply. 

She nodded, “he loved you..he may not have been the best at showing it, but he did. He was proud of you Connor.” She said simply before turning on her heel and departing. 


	2. Decade of Loneliness (Jacob Frye)

“Jacob, we need to talk..” She said rocking on her feet. Her hands were fidgeting inside her coat pockets.

“What is it love?” He asked following her out of the pub. 

She took a deep breath for courage, “I need to say this at least once.” She began as she turned to face him. “Jacob I like you, so much it hurts.” She said biting her lip in anticipation of his reaction.

“I don’t know what to say.” His eyes were wide as his jaw went slack.

She let out a nervous breathy laugh, “don’t say anything then. It’ll just make it worse.” She said with a wave of her hand. “Anyways, I’ve come to tell you I'm leaving. I already told Evie goodbye, and I wanted to say goodbye to you as well.” She said simply. 

“You’re leaving?” Jacob asked startled.

The (h/c) nodded scuffing her boot across the cobblestone. “It's time for me to move on. I’ve been reassigned to France.” She said with a shrug as she looked up at him once more. 

"I promise I’ll write, and Jacob?” She inquired.

His eyebrows raised, “yeah?” 

“Try not to give Evie and Henry too much trouble..and take care of yourself.” She said giving him a brief hug before setting off. 

“(Y/N)!” Jacob called, and she turned.

“If I’d said I cared too would you have stayed?” He called across the street. 

“Maybe.” She said simply before turning on her heel once more.

**  
As the years passed the letters with Jacob quit entirely. (Y/N) was still in regular contact with Evie. She was happy to hear of Evie and Henry’s marriage, and was surprised to learn of their move to India. She couldn’t help but feel for the younger twin being alone in London. Perhaps he had someone by now. There was no way of knowing. (Y/N) was too embarrassed to mention the younger Frye twin in any of her letters to Evie. 

It was late summer when she was given orders to return to London. She was scheduled to arrive in early fall. 

When she arrived in London she found herself seated in a cafe staring out a window watching the rain pelt the London cobblestones. Her mind drifted back to Jacob. She’d convinced herself that it was the timing of things. They were both young, and neither one was truly ready for any commitment of any sort. She was still convinced there had been something between the two. She could still recall the way his eyes would light up whenever she walked into a room. Her thoughts were cut off when she heard a giggle. She felt something brush against her legs and grip her coat. 

“Emmett!” She heard an exasperated voice. A voice she recognized. She glanced down at the young boy hiding in her coat. 

She smirked behind her teacup, “well Mr. Frye it seems as though God has quite a sense of humor.” 

“I’m terribly sorry miss...do we know each other?” Jacob asked startled.

(Y/N) scoffed with a roll of her eyes, “I help you free London, and you can’t even recognize my voice? Typical.” She said shaking her head as turned to look at him. 

“(Y/N)?” He managed to utter out. In the blink of an eye he had his arms wrapped around her, his face buried in her chest. She was surprised at his reaction, but happily wrapped her arms around him. 

The little boy crawled out from the table poking Jacob in the side. Jacob quickly released (Y/N) turning to face the little boy, “da, who is this?” 

“This is an old friend..(Y/N)” He said with a smile. 

The boy quickly crawled into her lap any shyness completely gone, “I’m Emmett Frye.” He said grabbing a strand of her hair. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Emmett.” She said steadying the boy so he wouldn’t fall. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re just like your father?” She asked with a chuckle. 

The boy merely shrugged, “auntie Evie does.” 

“Evie says you two still write?” Jacob asked sitting down at the table taking a sip of her tea. He used to be convinced that her tea always tasted better than his, and a decade later the statement still rang true. (Y/N) nodded, “we send letters as often as we can. France hasn’t been the most exciting.” She said with a soft chuckle. “The wine has been excellent though.” She added as Emmett shifted in her lap. “How have you been?” She asked.

Jacob shrugged, “good...exhausted.” He added glancing at Emmett. 

“Children tend to do that, and a child of Jacob Frye...well I can only imagine.” She said with a laugh.

Jacob grinned, “he’s a little too much like me.” 

(Y/N) glanced down at the boy who was now dozing in her arms, “well he’s quite the charmer, and definitely not shy.” She added. 

“He hasn’t taken a nap in months.” Jacob said his eyes bright, and almost misty. 

(Y/N) studied him for a moment, “Jacob...are you okay?” She asked softly. 

Jacob glanced down at his best friend. They hadn't spoken a word in ten years, but it only felt like a day. The connection was still there, and the trust between the two hadn't been broken. “Honestly? No." He said sitting back with a sigh. "Emmett’s mother left a few months ago. It’s been hard, taking care of Emmett, and running the brotherhood.’ He said with a sigh. “We’re supposed to get another master assassin soon.” He added punching the bridge of his nose. 

It was then that she noticed the faint crows feet at the corner of his eye. “Jacob...did they not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” He asked his eyes watching his son. 

“I’m the master assassin they sent for. I was going to report tomorrow. I just assumed you knew…” She said trailing off.

“You’re staying?” He asked perking up. 

She nodded, “I think Emmett isn’t the only one who could use some sleep." She said studying his bloodshot eyes. "How about we put Emmett down for a nap, so you can rest, and I'll take care of everything else.” She said standing up, careful not to wake the boy. 

“You don’t have t-” Jacob started.

“Jacob that’s what friends do..and it’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Evie isn’t here, and you're still my best friend.” She said added. "It's what friends do. Remember?" She asked offering him a small smile.

Jacob finally agreed, taking Emmett from (Y/N). The boy was still snoring away happily. Jacob lead her down the streets of London. “I have to ask, are you still living in a train?”

Jacob let out a laugh, “I was until Emmett’s mother informed me I couldn’t raise a family in a locomotive.” 

“Jacob Frye bought a house?” (Y/N) teased. “You really did get boring when I left.” She said as Jacob let out a laugh.

“I couldn’t keep up that lifestyle forever you know.” He said nudging her shoulder.

“True.” She said with a grin. When they arrived at Jacob’s home they put Emmett to bed. “Now, go to bed.” She ordered as she started picking up Emmett’s things. 

“Yes ma’am.” Jacob grumbled trudging down the hall. 

Soon Y/N had the whole house clean, and she was sitting down on the couch to relax when she heard the soft patter of footsteps as Emmett came down the hall rubbing his eyes. He crawled onto the couch snuggling into Y/N’s side as he started to wake up. “When’s mommy coming back?” He asked gripping his teddy bear. 

“Oh Emmett.” She said softly rubbing the boys back. “Do you know how much your daddy cares for you?” She asked. The little boy shrugged. “He would do anything for you Emmett. Auntie Evie, and uncle Henry loves you a whole bunch as well.” 

He sniffled, “they’re far away though.”

(Y/N) pulled Emmett into her lap, “now you have me, and I’ll be here whenever you need. If you need someone to tuck you in, or someone to talk to I’ll be here. I know I could never replace your mom, but I can give you any love that she may not be capable of giving you.” She said softly. 

“(Y/N)?” Emmett asked softly burying his weepy eyes into her neck.

“Yes?” She hummed.

“Can you sing me a song?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Of course,” she said softly. 

Jacob leaned against the wall his heart aching at his son’s words. An old wound was reopened when he heard his friend speak. He felt guilt at his display of unrequited love. He hadn’t been entirely truthful that day. He’d loved the woman so much. When she left he felt like a shell. He couldn’t tell her that he loved her. His younger self felt broken, and he didn’t feel right dragging her into his problems. Here she was though, after all this time. He had a child now, and she still wasn't leaving.

He thought back to the last letter he tried to send. He didn't know how to tell her about Emmett. He wrote a hundred letters, and set fire to each one. This was something you couldn't put into a letter. Emmett's mother had demanded he stop writing to her as well. For his family's sake he ended all communication. He did ask Evie about (Y/N). After a while he didn't need to ask anymore, Evie would just tell him in all her letters. Evie had never been a fan of Emmett's mother.

"Do you think we could go to the park?" Emmett asked softly. 

(Y/N) chuckled, "my dear little Rook it's pouring out. I don't want you catching a cold."

Jacob stepped into the room with a small smile, "I haven't heard you talk about my rooks in years." He said softly, sitting down next to her. 

“How long were you lurking?” She asked nudging his shoulder.

“Long enough.” He admitted running his hand up the back of his neck in a nervous manner. 

The evening passed quickly, and after Emmett was tucked into bed (Y/N) and Jacob found themselves seated in front of the fire. (Y/N) pulled a flask out taking a long pull from it before handing it to Jacob. Jacob took a drink as a heavy silence fell on the pair. Jacob’s hazel gaze bore into the fire. “I wasn’t entirely truthful.” He began hesitantly. 

(Y/N) looked at him intently taking another swig from the flask. “That day you left. I wasn’t entirely truthful.” He clarified.

“Jacob…” She began but he cut her off. 

“I need to say this at least once.” He began. Her answer caught in her throat. He recalled their conversation. Even if he had seemed distracted at the time he wasn’t. 

“I was terrified, and you were this one good thing in my life that I didn’t want to destroy. When you told me you cared for me I got scared, and I pushed you away. I was convinced that I would destroy any relationship that was between us if we became more. I didn’t want to lose you, but when you left I realized every single day I was losing you more and more. Each time I sent a letter I didn’t think I would get one back, and then when Emmett’s mother demanded I stopped writing to you I thought that I’d lost you forever. When I walked into that cafe today and saw you I realized what a fool I’ve been all these years. You said you cared for me so much that it hurt. Does it still hurt? I mean all those years in France did you feel like you left your heart and soul in London, because you took mine to France.” His eyes were wide searching her face for understanding. She bit her lip in an attempt to compose herself.

“I’ve spent years trying to move on, but every person I kissed left me wishing they were you. My heart and soul separated from me the moment I first saw you.” Her gaze had drifted to the fire. It was easier to confess things with a shifted gaze. “My feelings haven’t changed. You own my heart and soul, and you may do with it as you please.” Her lips were pressed against the whiskey flask, and he scooted to the edge of the couch knees pressing into hers. 

His tongue darted across his lips leaving a glossy sheen, “I want to kiss you.” 

Her eyes widened at the statement. Jacob was never the kind to beat around the bush, and the way he was looking at her. Pupils blown, lashes drooping, and lips in a perfect pout. All she could offer was a nod as her breath caught in her throat. He pulled her close; palms cupping her jaw leaning down to touch his lips to hers. She finally found out how soft his hair was as she buried her finger in his dark locks. His lips were soft and eager as they kissed, and she gave him a soft nip. He pulled back suddenly with a twinkle in his eye, and his infamous smirk. “Come love, I didn’t know you liked to play that way.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She said giving the side of his jaw a nip. Jacob let out a low groan. 

“I look forward to learning.” He said pulling her lips back to his.


	3. In the Flesh (Shay Cormac)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some cursing throughout this oneshot. Mostly PG, maybe PG-13?

Autumn leaves floated on the surface of the river. Her elbows were pressed into her knees, and her nose was buried in a book. Songbirds called to each other, and the soft turning of the pages blended together into a peaceful melody. Her training schedule had been hectic, and preparation for winter at the homestead had taken up most of her free time. It was times like these that she coveted. Solitude, nature, and a good book seemed to always call out to her.

She could be the worst assassin at times. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, and completely engrossed in what she was doing. It was her Achilles' heel, and he knew it. His feet were silent as he crept up the path, taking extra care to avoid the crunchy orange leaves that littered the forest floor. He hesitated studying his target. Her posture was relaxed on the marble bench at the edge of the river. The cowl of her assassin robes were pulled down, and her (d/l) hair was unbound floating in the crisp breeze. As he crept closer he was engulfed in her scent, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment taking in her comforting scent. It reminded him of home, a place that he thought was lost forever. His dark eyes narrowed on his target, and he couldn’t help but grin as he launched himself at her. His hands were quick to find her sides, the tips of his fingers squeezing into soft flesh. 

She let out a surprised squeak her body tensing, before letting out uncontrollable laughter. “Sh-Shay.” She managed to choke out between giggles. “Stop!” She shrieked. His attacks finally seized, and he wrapped his arms around her waist resting his chin on her shoulder, “What are you reading lass?” 

“That is none of your business Mr. Cormac.” She said with a blush. 

His eyes lit up reaching for the novel in her hands. He was quick to snatch it up before she could stop him. “Pamela?” He asked flipping through some of the pages. “A romance book?” He asked quirking an eyebrow as he took a seat on the bench next to her. “I didn’t know you were a hopeless romantic.” He said giving her shoulder a nudge. 

“I’m not!” She said reaching for the book, which Shay seemed determined not to give back. “Hope said she liked it, so she lent it to me.” 

Shay sprawled across the bench laying his head in her lap, book open to the page she was on. He cleared his throat and began to read out loud, leaving her red faced and embarrassed. After a couple of pages he stopped glancing up at her, “(Y/N) this is an awful book. Are you going to make me read this whole thing?” 

She scoffed, “I never asked you to read it. You took that upon yourself, but I see what you mean. It’s even worse hearing it then it is reading it.” 

Shay dropped the book, “what’s this sudden interest in romance novels?” 

“You aren’t going to drop this are you?” She inquired with a roll of her eyes.  
He frowned, “humor me. I’m just curious.” 

It occurred to her some time ago that he always managed to get her to inadvertently admit things that he didn’t want to be the first to say. He had a knack for convincing her to share her secrets with him, and he always seemed interested in what was going on in her mind. She was never the kind to open up, but if someone asked she would answer truthfully. Her heart was an open book for those willing to ask. “As you know I am a woman.” She began.

“Shocking.” Shay said dryly. 

“Eventually, I would like to find someone…” She said rubbing the back of her neck. “Or maybe not, I don’t know. I guess I’m curious?” She continued to ramble.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you’ve never been with a man in any way?” He asked looking up at her, causing the woman to blush.

“I never said that!” She said folding her arms across his chest.

“You didn’t need to.” Shay said with a chuckle. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He added. 

“Regardless, my life isn’t exactly relationship material.” (Y/N) simply said, “but I can read about people who are in the position for such things.” She said simply. 

“Maybe you just need someone who leads a similar life.” Shay said softly. 

**

“He’s dead.” Liam’s voice echoed snapping her back to reality. “Shay is dead (Y/N).” He repeated trying to solidify the statement in her mind. 

“Dead? How? When?” She asked. Her knees felt weak, and the world seemed to shake at it’s very core. 

“He defected. He’s a traitor.” Liam said once more. He was being extremely blunt with her as if she should take his words as solid facts. “One of our fellow brothers, who shall remain nameless shot him.” 

Her eyes widened turning on Liam instantly. For a moment her grief was transformed into rage. “Who the fuck shot him?” She asked shoving Liam against the wall. 

“For his safety, and your sanity he shall remain anonymous. Now I would suggest you back down and return to your duties immediately.” Liam hissed. 

With shaking hands she released him. Liam would not divulge any more information. He’d mentored her enough times for her to know how his mind worked. She spun around leaving the homestead behind her. Her mind was foggy, and emotions crashed about inside her like a sea during a storm. The marble bench by the river had a blanket of snow covering it. Bare fingered she managed to brush it off. Her whole body was numb, so she didn’t even feel the ice biting into her flesh. She collapsed onto the bench burying her face in her hands. Salty tears came quick, and sobs wracked her body. Her best friend was gone, and she’d never gotten to say goodbye. 

*  
**

“Quicker on your feet!” Liam hollered to some novices across the yard. His eyes flickered back to the (p/c/l) figure in front of him. “Your stance is wrong. If someone twice your size swings at you they’ll break through your defense instantly.” He said placing his hands on her hips to adjuster her stance. His fingers lingered on her hip as his other hand adjusted the position of her sword. She knew what he was doing, but she hadn’t been able to conclude if he was ordered to do it as a distraction or if he was genuinely interested in her. Maybe his conscience was clear since his best friend was labeled a traitor, and was currently six feet under. 

They ran through the drill until Liam felt the stance came naturally to her. She was placing a practice sword on the rack when Liam’s brogue startled her, “(Y/N). I wish to speak with ye.” She turned to face him giving him her full attention. “I know I’m your mentor, but I wanted to ask you something more personal.” He said softly looking down at the path as they walked. Her eyes widened, and her heart sped up. She knew where this conversation was going, and she’d been dreading it. “It seemed wrong at the time to say anything. You were a novice, and I was one of your mentors. Shay seemed pretty taken with ye, so I never pushed the matter.” He said stopping turning to face her. His hands quickly found hers gripping them for some sense of comfort, or support. “You’re beautiful.” He said earnestly leaning towards her. “I want you to join me in Virginia. I could be your only mentor from now on, and some time at sea together may do us both good.” He rambled on his eyes flickering up to her (e/c) gaze. 

“Liam I-” but she was cut off by an Assassin. 

“Sir! Kesegowaase is dead!” The rider declared handing him a sealed envelope. “There’s been reports that Shay Cormac has murdered him.”

Liam growled, “dammit! Dammit all to hell!” His thumb popped open the wax seal as his eyes scanned the letter. “That fucking traitor!” 

“Shays alive?” Her voice seemed distant. The shock of the news was still seeping in.

“The Shay you knew is dead.” Liam said shaking his head. “Dammit, he’s overtaken one of the forts in New York. Achilles and Hope need to know. Come, you may be getting another promotion soon.” Liam said leading her towards the manor. 

Achilles and Hope did not take the news well. (Y/N) found herself seated at a table watching the three debate the best course of action. “Perhaps we could draw him out?” Hope suggested her eyes flickering over to the (p/c/l) woman.

Liam frowned shaking his head, “he’ll be expecting that. Once he sees her he’ll be immediately on guard, or he’ll kill her.” 

Hope tisked, “you boys still aren’t over that feud? Shay is obviously a traitor, you don’t have to worry about losing (Y/N) to him. Shay will know this, but I think we both know that he will try his damndest to win her over.” Hope said simply. “Men aren’t that complicated Liam.” She said flicking auburn locks over her shoulder. 

(Y/N) sat up in her seat at the discussion. There were a lot of assumptions flying around the room about her, Shay, Liam, and her relationship with the two. She was about to interject, but stopped herself. It dawned on her that this may be the only opportunity she would get to learn the truth. If she could just speak to Shay she would know. Hope, Liam and Achilles hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding the events of Shay’s disappearance. Liam appeared to know that Shay was alive. How long had he known? Why didn’t he want her to know that Shay was still alive? She couldn’t escape the feeling that they were hiding something from her, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

“I think Hope’s right.” (Y/N) said making up her mind. 

Liam raised his eyebrows at her statement. “I think I can draw him out. He’ll know if I bring others with me.” She added glancing around the room. “Liam’s right. He’d expect that, but Hope’s right too. Shay would expect me to try and find him. I’m sure he’s aware that news of him has spread to the brotherhood. I know he’d speak with me.” She said giving Liam’s hand a squeeze in an attempt to convince him her actions were innocent. 

Liam squeezed her hand back, “so you’ll go…to Virginia with me?” Hope filled his eyes, and she was tempted to look away, ashamed of her lie. 

“Yes, of course. After New York.” She said offering him a smile. 

*  
**

New York was bustling with activity. Blending into crowds was an easy task for (Y/N). She made her way to the docks. The Morrigan had disappeared from the homestead, and (Y/N) assumed that this was the best place to look for Shay. The man wouldn’t wander too far away from his beloved ship. The docks seemed endless. She must have read the name of fifty different ships, but still no Morrigan. 

Shay peaked around the corner of a ship. Her back was to him as her eyes scanned the docks. He’d managed to search the perimeter, and he was able to confirm that she was alone. She hadn’t changed much. Still completely oblivious to his predatory gaze. He was directly behind her when he finally spoke up, “looking for me lass?” 

She jumped at his voice, but something inside her eased at the recognition of his voice. Her shoulders started to shake, and she knew there was no use in trying to stop the tears that pooled in her eyes. She slowly turned to face him, “you’re really alive. You’re not a ghost?” She stated gazing up at him. He could see the tears collecting on her long lashes and streaking down her face. 

“Aye, it’s me. In the flesh.” He said with a simple nod of confirmation.

“You look...different.” She said eyeing his robes, and she noticed the blood red cross on his chest. Her eyes flickered up to his dark lidded eyes. “It suits you.” She said quietly. 

He took a step towards her closing the distance between the two. His arms wrapped around her pulling her to him. He knew she’d spill whatever was on her mind when she felt safe, and he wasn’t wrong in his assumption.

“Shay everything is wrong. Liam told me you were a traitor, and that you were dead. I'm pretty sure Achilles, Hope and Liam aren't telling me the whole truth." Her voice was muffled in his coat. "And I think Liam's in love with me." 

Shay froze at her last sentence, "Liam is in love with you?" 

"I think; he wants to mentor me, and go to Virginia with him." She said, and her eyes widened at what she had just said. She quickly pulled away from Shay. "Shit! I shouldn't have told you that." 

"Lass I think you need to sit down and calmly explain what's going on." He said observing her wide eyes and obsessive pacing. "Come on lass." He said putting his arm around her leading her across the docks. Fort Arsenal was close. He studied her out of the corner of his eye as he lead her to the fort. His heart still fluttered at the sight of her, and she still felt like home. He was worried she'd hate him, but he could see the internal conflict within her. 

He lead her into the fort sitting her down in front of the fire. He shoved a glass of whiskey in her hand. "Drink this lass. It'll help." He said sitting next to her. He didn't try to speak until she finished the glass. 

"Shay, what happened? I came home from my mission and Liam told me you were dead. He said that you were a traitor." Her eyes flickered down once more to the cross on his chest. 

Shay sighed running his hand down his face, "I went to Lisbon, and found the precursor sight. When I touched it, it triggered an earthquake. It was a repeat of Haiti. Thousands of people died. All because of me." His gaze flickered to the fire. He couldn't bare to see her reaction. "I told Achilles what happened, and he refused to stop meddling with the precursor sights, so I attempted to steal the manuscript, and you know the rest."

He heard the thump of glass on the mahogany table and the shuffling of feet. "Shay, .Lisbon wasn't your fault. You didn't know." She said softly gripping his hands in hers. She was kneeling in front of him looking up at him. 

"Do you love him?" Shay asked his gaze smoldering in the firelight. 

"No, it's always been you." She said softly. Shay didn't hesitate to capture her lips in a kiss. He'd thought of this moment often, he'd imagined it in a hundred different ways, but nothing compared to this. His fingers tugging her closer, so that she was in his lap. Her fingers expertly pulling on his dark locks creating a pleasant sensation. He picked her up carrying her across the room letting her back hit the feather mattress. Her long lashes framed pupils blown with lust that gazed up at him with nothing but trust. He smoothed back her (h/c), "do you trust me?" He inquired searching her eyes for any doubt.

She nodded pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket and whispered, "always" against his lips.

*  
**

She awoke to the warm sun on her bare back. She gave a tentative stretch feeling a pleasurable soreness in her body. She rolled over to find the bed empty. She climbed out of the bed creeping across the floorboards hearing low voices echo through the fort. She turned to find a note on the bedside table.

Early morning meeting. I'll be back around ten.  
Yours,  
Shay

She grabbed a light blanket at the end of the bed wrapping it around her shoulders peeking out the window. It couldn't be past eight. Her robes were scattered across the mahogany floor, which she promptly ignored. She found a kettle and placed it over the fire taking a seat.  
She didn’t know if returning to the homestead was an option after last night. Hope had spies all over the city. She wasn’t a fool, and neither was Shay. Someone saw them enter Fort Arsenal, and she could guarantee that someone had been posted outside the stronghold all night to see if she left the fort. Which she hadn’t, so there were only two conclusions the brotherhood would come to: she was killed, or she defected. Hope would assume the latter, and Liam? Who knew. She could most likely convince him she was held prisoner from questioning, but the rest of the brotherhood wouldn’t trust her. The whistling of the kettle snapped her from her thoughts. She took the kettle off the fire busying herself with making a pot of tea. 

*  
**

It was a little past ten when Shay got back. The pessimistic part of him worried she’d be gone, but his heart told him she stayed. He was eager to see her and possibly repeat the events from last night. He found her seated in front of the fire, deep in thought. “I was worried you’d left.” He said snapping her back to reality. 

She quirked an eyebrow, “if I recall I’m the one who woke up alone.” 

He chuckled giving her temple a kiss, “I left a note.” His hand giving her bare arm a rub. “I’m yours for the rest of the day.” He said pressing a kiss to her neck his stubble scratching the delicate skin. 

“Shay..” She said softly, “we need to talk.”

Shay froze. He knew this conversation was coming, but he hadn’t been prepared for it to come so soon. He was hoping to enjoy her a little more before she left, but he understood the predicament she was in. The predicament he put her in. He rocked back on his heels using the momentum to stand. He took a seat in the chair opposite of her. Her bottom lip was glossy, and he knew she’d been anxiously biting it all morning. A habit she’d had since he met her. 

“I realize the position I’m in.” She began her fingers playing with the ends of the blanket that was draped around her. “I am not a fool. I know Hope has spies in the city, I know we were followed, and I didn’t return to the bureau last night. To the brotherhood I’ve defected.” Her voice grew soft at the end. “I suppose in a way I have. I lied to Liam and Hope. They expected me to kill you, and I knew that I wouldn’t.” She hesitated, “a lot of people put their trust in me and I’ve betrayed them.” She groaned burying her head in her hands, “I’m going to fucking hell.” 

He cursed, “Shite lass. This is my fault, I should have turned you away immediately. As soon as I saw you I had hope that someone didn’t completely turn on me. Then when you mentioned Liam I got angry, and jealous. I thought maybe he’d gotten to you too, and the thought of you loving him killed me, but when you told me you still cared for me I had to have you.” He confessed gripping her hands in his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and it was selfish of me, but I’ll never regret last night. Even if you chose to leave.” 

“After last night I have no desire to return to the homestead.”

A smile bloomed across Shay’s face, “you’re staying lass?” 

“If you’ll have me.” She said kissing the tip of his nose.

He pulled her into a bone crushing hug, his thumb smoothing her hair. “I thought you were going to tell me I’d lost you forever.” He said nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. 

“I lost you once Shay. Never again.” She said kissing the top of his head. 

“I love you lass.” Shay murmured against her neck. 

Her heart eased at those four words. For once he’d been the first to confess. She’d heard him express it in a million different little ways, but his confession did not leave any room for doubt. Her fingers trailed his back as she uttered, “I love you too.”


	4. Broken Dishes (Arno Dorian)

The pile of books never seemed to dwindle. Novices had a terrible habit of never returning books where they found them. Of course they didn’t hold a candle to the master assassins who liked to take their books for a walk. (Y/N) was currently searching for a particular volume the council was requesting. She’d searched every nook and cranny of the library, but the book was nowhere to be found. “It couldn’t have grown legs and wandered off.” She muttered, when it dawned on her that several master assassins visited the library yesterday. Someone had taken the book to their study, and she was on a mission to find the book before the council berated her endlessly for the misplacement of the precious tome. 

She found herself climbing the spiral steps in the Cafe Theater. There were several rooms to search, and she went to work knocking on each door inquiring after the tome. She’d made it to the end of the hall with no such luck. There was only one room left to check, and she felt nervous interrupting its occupant. She hoped he wouldn’t answer, so she could search his desk for the novel and leave a note. She hesitantly knocked three times, but much to her disappointment she could hear shuffling inside the room. Finally the door swung open revealing Arno Dorian the master assassin himself.

“Pardon monsieur, it seems a tome has gone missing from the library, and I’m trying to locate it. Do you happen to have the copy of Ezio Auditore’s journal entries?” Her hands fidgeted with her robes absentmindedly. 

“Oui, I didn’t know it needed to be back so soon.” He teased lightly, opening the door fully to let her in. 

“Normally no, but the council needs it, and I will be reprimanded if it isn’t in their hands by noon.” She explained. 

“Ah, I see.” He said grabbing the book off his nightstand, and placing it in her hands. 

“Merci beaucoup.” She said letting out a relieved sigh taking the book from him. "You can have it back as soon as the council deems it." She said over her shoulder, causing the man to chuckle. Chocolate eyes watched her figure disappear. He’d seen her in the library on several occasions, and he could not deny that she was a beautiful woman. It was at that moment that Arno decided to make more frequent trips to the library to speak with the pretty bookworm.

*  
**

Pascal wrapped his arms around her (p/l/c) frame, "missed me?" His voice was husky in her ear. 

"Pascal?" She asked spinning in his arms wrapping her arms around him. "When did you get back?" She asked pulling back to inspect him. Her eyes running over his frame looking for any new scars, and taking in his features. 

"This morning.” He said planting a kiss on her lips. “A rose for mon ange." He bowed presenting her a blood red rose. 

"Merci mon amour." A sweet scent enveloped her when she brought the rose under her nose. 

"Can you bare to part with your books for only a moment mon ange?" The blond inquired tapping her nose.

She blushed, "I will have one of the novices clean up tonight. I will meet you at four." 

He smiled pressing a kiss to her hand. "It's a date ma belle ange." He slipped away into the shadows leaving her stomach fluttering. She closed her eyes engulfed in the flower’s scent once more.

Arno pressed himself against the bookshelf clinging to the shadows as Pascal passed. He peeked around the corner to see the pretty scholar lost in her own world. Something inside him urged him to follow Pascal. He tailed the man through the crowded Parisian streets. The man stopped at a social club hesitating to survey his surroundings to confirm he wasn't followed, before slipping through the door. 

Arno found a place at the bar, which was crowded allowing the master assassin to easily blend, and observe the man completely undisturbed. His chocolate hues widened when another woman greeted the man at his table. Arno could assume the rest, but he couldn't leave without being completely sure of the affair. 

Pascal's fingers trailed the green eyed vixens cream skin as he placed the pendant on her neck. Soon his fingers were replaced with lips, and the two were lost in each other.

Arno had witnessed enough. He quickly placed a few francs on the bar slipping back into the street. Exposing the man's true character seemed like the best course of action. If he told the librarian she may not believe him, but she deserved to know. His heart ached for the woman. She appeared to be taken with Pascal, and the man was an ass. 

*  
**

He found her at a table in the library flipping through a large novel. “Salut.” Arno’s soft voice echoed across the empty library. She glanced up her eyes taking a moment to bring her back to reality, “Salute monsieur Dorian.” She said offering him a soft smile.

“A secret admirer?” He inquired nodding at the blood red rose that sat beside her. 

A blush crept up her cheeks, “non." She said simply. 

"A lover?" His eyes lit up, and a small smile crept on his face at her soft innocence. 

"We've been seeing each other for some time." She confessed, playing with the pages of her book. Her mind seemed somewhere else.

"Is there something troubling you amie?" He inquired, taking a seat across from her. 

Her teeth sunk into her lip, rolling it nervously deep in thought, "he seems different as of late." 

Arno nodded his head a sign for her to go on. "He's gone a lot during the day. Which wouldn't be odd, but…" she said trailing off. 

"What is it?" His hand found her’s gripping it for support. A friendly gesture to ensure he was listening.

"Well he told me he was on a mission a few weeks ago, but that same morning his mentor approached me asking where he was. His mentor was under the impression he was with me, and I was-"

"Under the impression he was with him." Arno finished her sentence with a grim face. She dipped her head in confirmation the cowl blocking her features for a moment. 

"I do not want to seem paranoid, but I'm not a fool either." She said simply.

"Does a woman with red hair and green eyes mean anything to you?" He inquired gageing her reaction to the question.

Fine brows furrowed deep in thought, but she shook her head slowly, "non." She hesitated her eyes fluttering closed for a moment to gain her composure. "What do you know?" Her (e/c) eyes snapped open in a flash.

Arno let out a heavy sigh, "I overheard the two of you in the library this morning. Something about him was...unsettling, so I followed him." Arno said running a hand up the back of his neck. Admitting his snooping filled him with shame.

"And what did you find?" Her voice came out hard, and flat. 

"A mistress...his mistress." He clarified at the end. Her jaw was set, and there was a spark behind her (e/c) eyes. She stood up abruptly, grabbing the rose and mangling it beyond repair. 

Arno's brows shot up at the scene unfolding. "That lying connard!" She seethed. Her hands picked up the large book, angrily forcing it back into its place on the shelf.

"(Y/N), let's think about this rationally." He said in attempts to calm her. 

"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind." She said simply storming out of the library, Arno hot on her heels.

"You know you cannot kill him." Arno said plainly as she stormed up the hall towards Cafe Theater. 

She scoffed "monsieur Dorian. You think me so rash? I was only going to threaten...then use force if necessary." She added at the end. 

Arno gripped her by the shoulders, "you need to breath, and think about this."

"If you're waiting for me to break down and cry you'll be waiting a long time, because he doesn't deserve the satisfaction of hurting me. I won't allow it!" She said throwing her hands up in anger. "I decided a long time ago that I get to choose who hurts me. My tears won't be wasted on someone like him." As soon as she said it, she ran out of steam and her composure fell. 

Her back hit the stone wall and her feet slowly eased her down until she was sitting on the cold floor. "What am I doing?" She mumbled the back of her skull hitting stone. 

Arno took a seat next to her,   
"Heav'n has no Rage,  
like Love to Hatred turn'd,  
Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd."

Her eyes gazed up at him tuning her head to face him, "The Mourning Bride?" He'd caught her by surprise."A well read master assassin who helps damsels in distress. Monsieur you are full of surprises." She teased nudging his shoulder. 

"Arno." He said softly. "Please just call me Arno." His eyes were soft gazing into hers. She could see the faint scar running across the bridge of his nose and cheek. His face was hypnotizing in the candlelight. He had eyes that she could get lost in, and before she found herself slipping into a sea of chocolate she cleared her throat.

"I need to speak with Pascal." She said pushing herself up from the ground. "Thank you Arno."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Arno asked scrambling to his feet. 

"Could I stop you?" She inquired. He let out a breathy laugh with a shake of his head. "Then I suppose I'm stuck with you." She jested, a ghost of a smile on her face.

"I believe we have dinner reservations to ruin." Arno said lightly gesturing towards the end of the hall. 

The pair made their way down the hall to find Cafe Theater alive with music, and voices melting together. Her eyes locked on Pascal seated at a table by the stage. He hadn't noticed her peeking into the room. He was out of his robes, sporting a smart emerald jacket, and his blond locks were plaited with a ribbon. 

"What's the plan?" Arno inquired leaning against wall. His arms folded across his chest playing the role of a mysterious stranger perfectly. 

"Don't have one." She said her eyes darting around the room for a woman with red hair and shamrock eyes. 

"Wait. You don't have one?" Arno asked straightening up. 

She waved him off, "believe me. I did this all the time on missions. I'm much better at winging it. Pissed Bellec off." She snickered. 

"You told Bellec you were going to 'wing it'." He asked trying to hold back the laughter. 

"No, of course not. I told Bellec he was going to watch me wing it." She said waving him off. 

"Pray, how did he take that news?" Arno asked with a an uncontrollable smile.

"Usually he’d say: I want the last words you think about before you die be 'I told you so.'" She said attempting to imitate Bellec's gruff voice. Arno shook his head at the image. It was exactly the kind of thing his old mentor would say. Her voice brought him back to the dimly lit cafe. 

"That's her isn't it." She said spotting the redhead a couple tables away from Pascal. Arno peeked around the corner, and with a nod of his head confirmed her assumptions. "Come on." She said dragging him by the front of his robes. 

"Mon amour." She greeted sweet poison dripping from each word.

"Mon ange." Pascal greeted. "Late at the library again?" He teased. 

"Monsieur Dorian was filling me in on some research he did." She said taking a seat at the table. Arno followed suit curious what the woman was up to. 

"Oh, a book lover as well?" Pascal inquired. "Master Dorian, what is the sudden interest with a lowly scholar?" He inquired. 

(Y/N) had to refrain from rolling her eyes. The man was cheating on her, and he had the audacity to get jealous that Arno showed an interest in her. “A brilliant mind, and a beautiful face is rare in this world mon ami.” The word ‘ami’ had a hint of warning laced in it. 

Arno turned to (Y/N) with a thought flickering in his mind, "are you in love?" Arno's voice was like silk.

"Out." (Y/N)'s voice came automatically.

A glint showed in Arno's eyes. He was unsure if she would understand, but there was no doubt now. "Of love?"

"The one I love doesnt love me." Her voice came soft. "Shakespeare?" She questioned, but she already knew the answer. 

"Oui."

Her jaw was set as she turned on her old flame, sparks coming to life behind her eyes, "you dared bring her here?" 

"Bring who amore?" He shifted uneasily caught in his lie. 

"Her. Your mistress." Her head inclined towards the red haired woman. "You couldn't be shamed enough to keep it private?" Her voice cracked at the end. 

"Mon ange, she's nothing." His voice came out quiet. "I love only you." 

Her eyes grew sad, and her mouth went slack studying him for a moment. "Pascal, you do not break those you love." The chair legs on the wooden floor made a loud echo in the room as she stood. She left the theater without a glance back. 

His footsteps were silent, but she didn't need to hear him to know he was there. Paris' streets were empty and the lights sparkled off the surface of the Seine. The marble railing was cool on her legs as she leaned against it waiting for him to speak. 

"Who broke you?" 

Her hood was thrown back and the cool breeze trailed across her skin. She weighed the question her eyes boring into him. A sigh released, and he knew he'd gained her trust. "My father. That was a long time ago. I put the pieces back together, but a broken dish will always be a broken dish." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her gaze drifted over the obsidian surface of the river, as if she were attempting the shake the emotions that bubbled to the surface of her mind. 

Arno shifted on the cobblestones unsure what to say. "Death broke me. Maybe we're all just broken dishes in the end." 

She snorted, "what a sorry title for a life." 

Arno stepped closer to her. Her frame was silhouetted in the moonlight, and he finally realized that she was a tragic beauty. Held together by only sadness and empty dreams. Books were a solace for her, because she felt everything so deeply. She hadn't the tears to spare anymore. Living in perpetual sadness lead her to greet sorrow like an old friend. It was then that he realized that some people found beauty in sadness. Some women were like flowers, and sunshine. Others were like silk and midnight, but this girl was a raging storm that would swallow you whole and spit you right out. She'd weathered too many storms to settle for anyone who couldn't handle the tidal waves and driving rain. 

"Maybe our broken pieces would fit together." If it hadn't been for the empty streets she wouldn't have heard the soft whisper of his voice. 

For a moment he was worried she hadn't heard him, but she pushed herself off the railing to stand in front of him. "Are you going to be there when my world comes apart? I've given too many pieces away to support everyone else."

He looked down into those soft (e/c) pools. "Then I'll give you some of mine." He said softly. It was in that moment he knew she needed to be kissed, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips slightly parted. Long lashes gazed up at him, one hand cupped her face and the other tangled in her (h/c) locks. When their lips touched the world seemed to float away. The only real thing in the world at that moment was the two of them entangled in a kiss. When they finally parted, their lips were swollen, and there was no room for anything but love in their eyes. 

"You have the kind of eyes a girl could get lost in." She said softly. There was no room for anything above hushed whispers. "I cannot bare to say goodnight."

"Then tell me good morning." He said softly kissing her once again. Hands entwined he lead her to his room. On a feather bed they wouldn't have to part. Their souls could become one, and they’d never have to say goodnight.


	5. The Weaver (Alexios)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Attempted Rape
> 
> Oneshot is a bit Insta-lovey

The evening air cooled his olive skin. Vendors lined the streets of Athens. Alexios passed by, searching the crowd for anyone that may be looking to hire a misthios. He heard a faint scuffling echo across the market square. Intrigued, he followed the noise to inspect the disturbance. 

*  
**

(Y/N) had visited the market to gather a few dyes she had run out of. All had gone smoothly until she left the market. On the path out of town she found herself surrounded by Leander and his gang of miscreants. She pulled the wicker basket in her hands closer to her body in an attempt to protect herself. Screaming was an option, but she doubted anyone would come to her rescue. Most of Athen’s citizens ignored Leander in hopes they wouldn’t become his next victim. 

Leander had made his intentions quite clear to her on several occasions. She had been lucky enough to be able to give him the slip every time, until now. Instinctively she backed up as they closed in on her. Her back hit something solid causing her to jump forward. Strong hands clamped down on her arms, and another took her basket. “Let me go!” She cried struggling to pull away from the man. 

“(Y/N), we never got to finish our conversation from before. You’re very good at disappearing.” Leander said his fingers trailing down the side of her jaw. She jerked back from his touch the man tightening his hold on her arms. “You are a rare beauty. Aphrodite must have personally blessed you.” He said twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers. “You never answered me regarding my marriage proposal. I can only assume you’ve been too shy to express your true feelings.” He continued with a gleam in his eyes.

“I didn’t think my feelings could have been any clearer with my avoidance. I will not marry you Leander.” Her jaw was firmly set, and the man chuckled at her words.

“I find it humorous that you think you have a choice.” He said simply. “This isn’t your precious Sparta.” He said reaching for her dress. 

Panic surged through her as she landed a kick on Leander, causing him to stumble back. “Skyla!” Leander said angrily grabbing her hair and giving it a good jerk. 

*  
**

Alexios had been watching the scene unfold from the bushes. He’d observed enough to understand that Leander and his gang were not held in high esteem amongst the Athenians. He had no doubt he could handle the six men, and he knew time was running out to act. He plunged his spear through the side of the man’s neck. The man’s hold on the young woman seized as he dropped to the dirt. Alexios was already moving on to his next target. After dispatching all of his targets, Leander was the only one left. The man turned throwing the (h/c) woman on the ground before drawing his sword. “You’re going to regret that.”

The blades echoed across the path. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the string of dead bodies surrounding her. Fear was now replaced with repulsion at the sight and smell of death. She scrambled to grab the basket and pick up all her discarded items. In the event the kind stranger was slaughtered by Leander she would be ready to run. A sickening sound of steel cutting through flesh echoed in her ears, and her fingers started to tremble as she attempted to finish gathering up the dye. She felt gentle fingers brush against her’s, and her gaze flickered up into soft honey eyes. “Are you alright?” He questioned tentatively putting his hand on her arm to comfort her. 

His kind voice brought her back to the reality of the situation. Tears leaked from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, “thank you.” Were the only words she could find, and she found herself repeating them like a mantra as her body shook with soft sobs. 

Alexios held the woman while she calmed, murmuring comforting words in his soft deep voice. When she was finally calm she pulled away quickly, “I’m so sorry.” She brushing herself off in attempts to pull herself together. 

Alexios stood inspecting the (p/l/c) female for any injuries, “He won't be bothering you anymore.” 

“Thank you..I don’t know how I can repay you.” She said picking up her basket, and resting it on her hip. 

Alexios took a step closer to her taking the basket from her, “let me walk you the rest of the way.” 

“I’m indebted to you twice now.” She said walking next to him on the well worn path. Dusk was settling on Athens, and the cicadas’ song drifted through the countryside. Her savior was an attractive man, soft eyes, long brown hair, and sculpted by the gods. A warrior with a kind heart was rare to find. 

The man gave her a small smile, “I’m always happy to help a fellow Spartan. You’re a long way from home.” He observed his eyes taking in the Athenian countryside. 

“My family relocated a few years before the war. I’m the only one left.” She said with a simple shrug. “By Athens standards I cannot legitimately wed, so I’m left alone. Which suits me.” She said simply as her home came into sight. 

“They are not very progressive here.” Alexios agreed studying her, “you don’t get lonely living out here?” Alexios inquired, and she shook her head.

“It’s peaceful.” She said simply. The house was small, and she’d made some self improvements to the stone cottage. The door had been painted azure blue, and flower boxes had been hung from the windows, overflowing with pink flowers. A weaving rack was set up with a half finished rug. Alexios set the basket down inspecting her work, “This is beautiful.” 

“You can have it once I finish it.” She said coming to stand beside him. “It’s why I went into town. I needed more dye.” She said gesturing towards the basket of white yarn. “It’s the least I could do.” She added. 

Alexios studied her a moment, loose strands of hair floating in the gentle breeze, and her soft curves. She was perfectly content being alone amongst the cicadas, flowers, and sea breeze. The prospect of a relationship never seemed possible with someone. He was always journeying from one side of Greece to the next, and he knew that he could not leave someone for months at a time. It wouldn’t be fair to them, but this woman was perfectly content to spend her evenings weaving and living amongst nature. Perhaps, a relationship was possible with someone like her. “Perhaps there is something else you could do for me.” He said gazing down at her.

His eyes were smoldering, and she’d never seen anyone look at her like that. “What’s that?” She could see small golden flecks in his irises, and his gaze devouring her. 

“Grant me a kiss from one blessed by Aphrodite.” He pleaded, his fingers slowly trailing down her arms to entwine their hands. 

His touch was like lightning: pulsing energy, and full of wonder. His calluses were electrifying, and he was a storm she wanted to weather. Her hands pulled him down, and on tiptoes she pressed a tentative kiss to his lips. One kiss let loose the storm, and she lost count of how many kisses they shared as she got swept up in his sea. He lifted her up, carrying her through the blue door she painted years ago. 

She felt cushions on her back, and gazed up at the brown haired Adonis above her. His lips were swollen, and his thumb stroked her hair. His eyes were gazing deep into her's, "what's your name?" His voice was low, and his pupils were blown wide devouring every inch of her face. 

"(Y/N)." Her voice was like honey, and he couldn't think of a more perfect name for the goddess before him. "And yours?" The questions came out with a pant. Her chest heaving from the bliss that was his kiss. 

"Alexios." His voice was deep, but pleasant. Shivers raced down her spine with each word he spoke. 

Before she lost her nerve she pulled him down to capture his lips in a kiss once more. This time there was no stopping. His armor was heavy to strip, but his nimble fingers assisted her. The rest of the night was spent entangled in each other's embrace. Learning the plains of each other's bodies. 

*  
**

Sunlight streaming in through the window roused her from sleep. The misthios was asleep next to her, his arm draped over her body, and his face buried in her hair. She was sore in all the right places from the prior evening’s activities. It occurred to her that waking up with another person could be blissful. She was typically happy to wake every morning and enjoy the solitude, but after last night Alexios had made her doubt her quite routine. Would she be content to be alone the rest of her life? Perhaps she should sail for Sparta, and attempt to lay down roots there. 

“What’s the matter my star? You’re thinking so hard I can hear it.” He muttered into her hair, his grip on her tightened as he snuggled closer to her. 

“I was thinking about what you said last night.” She said softly. She’d rolled over to face him, and a honey eye cracked open to peer up at her. 

“What did I say?” His voice was laced with sleep, but he was slowly coming back from the land of the dreaming. 

“About it being lonely living out here.” 

He blinked himself awake, trying to comprehend her words. 

“I think that maybe you’re right.” She continued on before he could interrupt her. “I think I will go back to Sparta. Perhaps I can find something for me there.” 

He propped himself up studying the woman, as the words rattled out of her mouth. He’d grown attached to her over the evening, and her soft heart was something that he could escape to. For once he didn’t feel like the weight of the world was on his shoulders in her presence, and the thought occurred to him that he would like to have her near. “Come with me.” 

His words gave her pause. Her fine brows were raised, and she blinked in surprise at his sudden forwardness. “Where?” She inquired sitting up the blanket falling, leaving her exposed to the chill morning air. 

He shrugged, “everywhere. Greece.” He sat up fully, wrapping his arms around her until she was flush against his chest. “I do not wish to part from you.” He said softly against her hair. 

A small smile bloomed on her face, “when do we set sail?”


	6. Tea Talk (Jacob Frye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @Marshmallow3 for the request 😊❤

Spring was alive in London. The songbirds melody carried in the breeze, and the flowers were in full bloom. The sun warmed her face, and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d acquired a date with the most reckless man in London, and she couldn’t help but feel butterflies at the prospect. 

He had asked her to afternoon tea, which surprised her. A tea date didn’t seem to fit the man. She assumed he’d drag her to a pub, or on a daring adventure. However, tea was something she could certainly do. It was also an easy lie she told her parents. She was simply meeting a friend for some tea. 

There was no use in alarming them if the date was a disaster. Jacob Frye was not the sort of man her parents would wish for her to make a match with. The man was rumored to be a gang leader, and she doubted her father would easily overlook that. She knew he was hoping to marry her off to a man that would be advantageous to him. Something (Y/N) cared little for. She wanted a man who could make her smile, and someone she could fall in love with. It may have been the oldest cliche in the book, but she couldn’t deny her heart. 

The tea shop sat on the corner. Its large bay windows overlooking the park. It was the perfect place to take in spring and observe couples strolling through the park. (Y/N) lifted her skirts to cross the street, doing her best to avoid the muck. When she was safely across she rearranged her skirts, and gave her cheeks a pinch to bring color to them. She was oblivious to the fact that the crisp spring breeze had already brought a soft flush to her cheeks. 

The bell jingled when she entered the tea shop. She found him seated by a large window spinning his top hat in his hands. His hazel eyes were darting around the bright room, and when they landed on her he was quick to jump up. There was an audible bang as his knees hit the table causing the dishes to rattle. He quickly grabbed the table to steady it. His face flustered as everyone’s eyes in the tea shop flickered to him. 

She bit her lip to stifle a laugh. His nervous demeanor was adorable, and she was worried she would be the first to fumble on their date. “Miss (L/N), I’m terribly sorry.” He said flustered pulling her chair out for her. 

“It’s quite alright Mr. Frye. Usually I’m the one to cause a scene.” She said touching his arm in a gesture of reassurance. This seemed to settle him for the moment as he took his seat across from her. She placed her bag behind her. Her posture was erect, the boned corset helping her sit straight, and framing her physique. “I’ve never been to this tea shop, it’s quite lovely.” She said her gaze flickering around the room. It was her attempt at idle conversation. She would be lying if she said her nerves weren't completely shot. However, her training in edicate had prepared her for situations in which she'd find herself seated across from an attractive suitor.

“My sister Evie recommended it.” He said watching the sunlight hit her face. She was glowing, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. His eyes instantly snapped down as he heard his sisters words echoing in his head, 'remember Jacob it is impolite to stare. You mustn't make your intentions clear when courting the ladies of London.'

"What kind of tea would you like?" She inquired glancing over the menu, her (e/c) gaze flickering up at him.

"Earl Grey?" His reply came out nervous, "or whatever you'd like." He added. 

"That sounds perfect. Earl Grey is my favorite." She added with the softest smile Jacob had ever seen. A waitress in a black dress, and a crisp white apron came over. 

"What can I get you sir?" The woman directing the question at Jacob, who seemed at a loss as he glanced at the menu once more. “Um..uh…” He stuttered, before (Y/N) spoke up.

"The afternoon tea, earl grey please." She clarified to save the struggling man. "I think you'll need to add some extra scones, and biscuits." She added, as the woman nodded bounding off to the back. 

"Are we expecting someone?" He asked glancing around the room.

"Forgive me, I only assumed there may not be enough food. My brother Thomas usually devours the whole tray before I've eaten anything." She said giving him a small smile. 

"Are you and Thomas close?" Jacob asked sitting up, hoping he could bring another smile to her face. 

She nodded, "oh yes. His ideas were always getting us in trouble." She said smiling fondly at the memory. 

The tea spread came out promptly. "Allow me." Jacob said reaching for the teapot splashing tea across the table. "Shit! I mean bugger." He said taking the cloth napkin and trying to mop up the tea. 

"It’s quite alright. Let me help" She said grabbing her tea towel to help sop the mess up. "Jacob?” The woman inquired studying the man. His cheeks were flushed, and he appeared as if he were prepared to bolt out of the tea shop at any second. “What's bothering you?" She asked brushing a lock of hair from his face. 

He sighed, "I wanted this to be perfect, and I'm clumsy mess." He said collapsing in his chair defeated. "You're just, so posh and I don't know why you agreed to see me. I'm a fucking train wreck. Evie and Henry spent hours coaching me through this, and I've gone and mucked everything up like I always do." His eyes were downcast as he picked at a loose string on his pants. 

"Jacob, I agreed to see you because you're not like everyone else." She said softly. "I've been to tea with enough posh men that I'm sick of the formalities." His hazel eyes peeked up at her as a sign for her to go on. "I was hoping to get to know the Jacob Frye I've heard so much about. The man who liberates children from factories, the reckless man, who may or may not be a leader of a gang. I'm still trying to confirm that to be honest.” She said with a nervous chuckle. “If I wanted someone conventional, I wouldn't have snuck away to have tea with you this afternoon." 

Jacob sat up a little straighter, "you just want to get to know me? I mean, the real me?" 

(Y/N) nodded, "that's all I want." She said honestly. 

"Did you really sneak out to meet me for tea?" Jacob asked grabbing a scone and jam. His eyes alight with mischief. 

She bobbed her head, "my parents think I'm having tea with Cecilia, one of my best friends." 

“A rebellious, well to do lady? You’ll be the talk of the town, and utterly ruined.” Jacob said with a glint in his hazel eyes. 

“Perhaps I want to be utterly ruined by you Jacob Frye.” She said taking a casual sip of her tea, as if she were engaging in common tea talk, and not suggesting something so utterly shocking. 

A smirk grew on his face. All he knew was that he needed to see this cheeky woman. "Evie told me not to tell this joke, but I have to." He said with a grin leaning closer to her so his voice was just above a whisper. "What kind of tea do you try to steal?" 

"I don't know...what?" She asked with a small smile.

"Virgin-a-tea." He said with a dorky grin. 

She burst out laughing, causing the rest of the tea room to stare at her. "Mr. Frye, I think you just earned yourself a second date."


	7. Like a Son (Shay Cormac)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @Marshmallow3 for the idea and request!

The scent of gunpowder lingered in the air, as the smoke settled on the deck. The cannons left a ringing in Shay's ears as he bellowed out orders. The battle was almost over, and his men had the upper hand. The impact came as a shock. "Move Captain!" Came a deep voice, before he heard the crack of a gun. He was quick to draw his own pistol, his aim came second nature as he pulled the trigger. He could hear his crew cheering, a sign that they'd overtaken the man'o war.

He heard a choking, gasping breath. He turned to see one of his most loyal sailors laying on the deck. Red blood slowly pooling beneath him. With a panic Shay realized what the man had done. That bullet was meant for him, but Erik had took it instead. 

"Cap-" the man gasped. 

Shay drew closer, as the man placed something in his hands, "tell my sis, I love her...and tell Jami-" but Shay cut him off. 

"I will. I promise,” he said firmly. After a few more ragged breaths, the light in his eyes dimmed. Guilt plagued the Irishman. It seemed death was something he always cheated, but it always took a life for his. He glanced down at his open palm. Erik had placed a ring in his hand. It looked old, something a viking would have adorned. The high planes of Erik's cheeks indicated that the ring was most likely a family heirloom. Erik's family had settled in New York. With the help of Gist, Shay was positive he could locate Erik’s family to give them the news of his passing. 

*  
**

The house was located out of town. It was isolated, and he was shocked to hear the thudding of hooves coming quickly behind him. He leapt out of the way just in time to see a small boy flying down the trail on a fat pony. The boy was sounding a loud battle cry as he passed by. His wavy brown hair was a tangled mess, and mud caked his face. "Jamie!" A voice called, and the boy nudged the pony towards the wooden house. 

Shay was surprised to find that Jamie couldn't have been past seven. He was a wild child, and his hair was the color of Erik's. The boy leapt off the pony and bounded towards the house. The buckskin pony gave a violent shake of his mane. With a snort the pony went to work on the closest patch of grass. 

Shay heard the wooden door shut twice. "Awww but ma…" the boy groaned stomping out of the house with her hot on his heels. 

"You haven't even unsaddled him. Now go put him up, and make sure to brush him good Jamie." She ordered. 

The young boy let out an exaggerated sigh as he grabbed the reins leading the pony towards the small barn. The woman was beautiful. He didn't think Erik had a wife, but he also didn't know the intimate details of his crew members. "Can I help you sir?" She asked wiping her hands on the white apron that was tied to her waist. 

"Are you Erik's wife?" His question solicited a laugh from the woman. 

"No, I'm his sister. (Y/N)," she said offering her hand for him to shake. 

"Shay Cormac." He said gazing down into her soft (e/c) eyes. 

"Ah, captain Cormac I presume?" She asked with a smile. He gave her a nod of confirmation. "Well come in, I have whiskey, or tea." She said leading him towards the house. 

The home was small, but cozy. A fire kept the place warm, and freshly baked bread was on the counter. "Help yourself." She said as she busied herself with making tea. 

Shay paced the room, too nervous to sit. He'd thought of a million different ways to break the news, but none of them seemed right. 

The door flew open and in strolled the young boy. It was clear that young Jamie believed himself to be the man of the house in his uncle's absence. "Jamie Dahlberg-Cameron." The little boy said offering his small hand. 

The woman's lips quirked up at this. The Irishman shook his hand, "Shay Cormac." 

"Do you know uncle Erik?" The boy asked making his way to the table to get some bread. 

"Aye." Shay said softly. 

"Do you sail with him?" Jamie asked stuffing the bread in his mouth. 

"Aye, I was his captain." Shay said softly. 

(Y/N) froze at the word “was”. Jamie hadn't missed a beat, "you're a captain?" He asked excitedly. "Do you have your own ship?" Jamie asked swinging his legs. The bench he sat on was too tall for his feet to touch the floor. 

"Aye, her name's the Morrigan." Shay said taking a seat next to him. (Y/N) placed the tea down in front of them. A feeling of dread growing in the pit of her stomach, but she didn't want to bring Jamie's mood down. Instead she observed the pair. Mr. Cormac was extremely patient with the young lad. 

"Have you ran into any pirates?" He asked excitedly. Shay was too happy to jump into a tale of one of his many voyages. 

Shay spent the evening recounting many wild tales to Jamie. The boy was eager to listen, and couldn’t help but giggle at the Irishman’s accent. If Jamie’s father had stuck around, the young boy would have most likely have taken on his father’s soft Scottish brogue. His mother knew that she could sit all night and think of “what ifs,” but it would do very little to bring back Jamie’s father, or her brother Erik. 

"Jamie, I think it's time for bed." (Y/N) said ushering him up the stairs. 

"Can Captain Cormac tuck me in?" Jamie asked excitedly. 

"Oh, I'm sure you've worn out Mr. Cormac." She began before Shay waved her off. 

"Of course lad, I'll tell you all about the time we took Fort La Croix from the French." His voice drifted off as the pair climbed the stairs. 

(Y/N) took a seat in front of the fire. She was alone with her thoughts, and they started to drift towards the inevitable. Erik had not come home, but his Captain came to pay them a visit. It could only mean one thing, Erik was gone. Silent tears leaked out of her eyes. Her last relative, and her last friend in this world was gone. She knew life at sea was dangerous, but he'd insisted saying that it was in his blood. Jamie had the same reckless, zeal for life. Sometimes she wondered what he'd inherited from her. 

The creak of the floorboards snapped her out of her thoughts. She quickly dried her eyes. "I'm sorry Mr. Cormac we don't get visitors very often. Jamie tends to be a bit enthusiastic." 

"It's quite alright lass. It's nice to see a boy with a bit of spirit. I take it he gets it from his mom?" He inquired, taking a seat across from her. 

"I take it Erik has told stories about me?" She asked with a raise of her brow, and the Irishman gave her a nod of confirmation. “He’s gone. Isn’t he?” Her voice came out hollow. 

"I'm sorry.." His voice cracked as he watched the flames lick the logs. "Your brother was a good man."

"He was always the better one of us." She said softly. "Everyone loved Erik."

Shay studied her. She was barely holding it together. "It should have been me." He said softly. She glanced up, seeing the guilt in his eyes. "He shoved me out of the way and took the bullet that was meant for me." Shay explained holding her gaze. He wanted her to look at him like he was a monster. That's what he deserved, but her eyes grew soft. 

"Thank you for telling me...in person." She said softly. He pulled out the ring and handed it to her. A look of surprise came across her face.

"I never thought I'd see this again." She said studying the intricate gold band. "I'll give it to Jamie when he's old enough." She explained. 

"Where's your husband?" Shay inquired, and her face hardened for a moment.

"Jamie's father and I never got married, officially.” Shay could tell she was choosing her words carefully. She had gotten up to pour two glasses of whiskey. 

“Officially?” He inquired, taking the glass of amber liquid from her. 

“I’m sure you know what handfasting is?” She asked swirling the drink in her hands. 

“Aye, it’s a little more common in Ireland and Scotland.” Shay said with a nod of his head, taking a long pull from his drink. 

“He explained that handfasting is essentially the same as marriage, except it lasts a year and a day from when the handfasting takes place. Within that time either person can walk away. Of course he made me believe we were actually going to wed. The morning after we handfasted I woke up alone.” She shook her head taking a long drink. 

“Jamie has never met the man." She explained. "That's why we live out here. I didn't want Jamie to hear what they say. I'm not ashamed." She said quickly meeting the Irishman's gaze. The fire in her eyes could attest to that. "I don't want Jamie to think I regret anything, and he shouldn't suffer for my sins." She added. 

Shay studied her for a moment, "Is it just you and the lad now?" 

She sighed, giving him a nod. "Erik was the only family we had left. My parents disowned me when I became pregnant with Jamie." She explained. 

"I'll come to visit." He said softly, as her glassy eyes peered up at him.

"I couldn't ask that of you. You've been kind enough." (Y/N) said softly 

"I insist. I'd like to see the lad. I know what it's like to not have a father around." He added, his dark eyes seemed to be somewhere else. Lost in an old memory. 

"Thank you." She said giving his hand a squeeze.

*  
**

Shay made a point to visit as often as he could. Sometimes it would be months before he'd appear at the gate. Occasionally, he would turn up after a year or so at sea. (Y/N) never failed to worry for the Irishman. She'd grown fond of him over the years. He treated Jamie like a son, and Jamie adored the man. Jamie would often run around the house trying to mimic the Irishman's brogue. 

Jamie was 13 when he told his mother he wished to have a life at sea. His mother wasn't surprised. He'd never made it a secret that he wished to be just like Shay. 

After Jamie’s confession, she found a quiet place in the garden to sit. She let her mind wander. It didn't seem long ago that she was in the middle of her season. 

Her parents had hoped she'd marry well. She met Aaran Cameron at a party hosted by the Coopers. He was a tall man, his auburn locks singling him out. All the women in the room took their turns at pulling him onto the dance floor.

Jane had been eyeing the man curiously. "He hasn't taken his eyes off of you." Her best friend gave her a nudge, "go speak to him." 

Y/N scoffed, "I'm perfectly content to stay right here." 

"Guess that suits him as well. He's headed this way." Her friend said with a small giggle. 

"He's what?" She hissed, spinning around to see the Scotsman making his way towards her. 

"May I have this dance?" He asked reaching for her hand. 

One dance turned into another dance. Eventually the pair found themselves dancing the night away. They continued to court until one night when the rain was coming down hard, the two sought refuge in a barn. It was there that he explained handfasting. 

He draped the plaid across their clasped arms. She repeated his words,

"You cannot possess me for I belong to myself.  
You cannot command me, for I am a free person.  
But I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night and the eyes into which I smile in the morning.”

That next morning she recalled waking up in the hay loft alone. She'd spent the morning waiting for him to return, believing that he had just run out for a moment, but he never came back. 

Jane was the first person she told about Jamie. She recalled her last conversation with Jane.

"Tell your parents of the handfasting. Aaran is married to you for a year. They can pressure him to honor the year long commitment. He may decide to stay after that."

"I do not want a husband who doesn't want me." She said stubbornly, her jaw was set. "Can you imagine waking up every single morning to a man who is only there because his reputation is on the line? Knowing he'll never truly love you." 

Jane was quiet for a moment, "your parents will disown you. The whole town will ridicule you. My parents will not allow me to see you anymore." Jane said as tears slid down her eyes. 

Y/N embraced her friend. Jane would be the one person she would truly miss. 

Even after all these years she still felt the void her best friend used to occupy. She saw Jamie chopping wood near the house. He looked so much like his father. 

Soon she'd be alone. She couldn't stop him from chasing his dreams. Even if she'd be worried sick over his safety. He was young, and he still had a few more years left at home. Y/N saw Jamie bound towards the front gate. 

(Y/N) quickly got up to see who had captured Jamie’s interest. She was surprised to see Shay at the front gate. The last time he visited was only a week ago. 

She noticed the bundle of lilies in his hands. "Shay, you're back so soon?" She inquired glancing up at him. He wore a bashful smile as he handed her the delicate flowers.

She took the flowers from him, her fingers brushing his. Her eyes shifted over to Jamie who was grinning at the sight. "I needed to ask Jamie something important when I visited last." He said glancing over at the young man. 

"Can we go for a walk?" Shay asked gesturing towards the garden. (Y/N) nodded, taking Shay's arm linking it with hers. Shay didn't speak until they were at the edge of the garden. "I love Jamie like my own son." Shay began his gaze focusing on the rose bushes. "Over the years I've been slowly falling in love with you. I don't know when it began, but suddenly all I knew was that everytime I came back to land the only place I wanted to be was here. With you and Jamie." Shay had stopped, turning to face her. She clutched the lilies to her chest, her heart pounding inside her chest. His fingers tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"You love me?" Her voice was soft, as she searched his eyes for any lies. His dark eyes were sincere, and soft. 

He nodded, "the day I met you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on." 

"I love you too Shay." She said gazing up at him. 

"Would you kiss her already?!" Jamie's voice came from the bushes. 

"Erik James Dahl-" but she was cut off by Shay's lips on her's. She was quick to melt into his kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, on her tiptoes to pull him closer to her. When they finally parted their lips were swollen, and they were wrapped up in each other's bliss. 

"Did you propose yet?" Jamie asked popping up from the bushes. Twigs entangled in his brown locks. 

"I hadn't got there yet lad." Shay said shooting him a look. Jamie gave a sheepish grin, "sorry Shay." 

"Lass, will you marry me?” He asked his hands splayed firmly on her back. His dark gaze searching her (e/c) eyes. 

“Yes Shay.” She said softly, pulling him in for another kiss.


	8. A Rose from Starrick's Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I debated if I should post this oneshot. It is completely self indulgent, I couldn’t pick a plot line, and well I just wanted A LOT out of one fic. It’s complete trash, but hopefully you enjoy it as much as I did.   
Also, I am aware this fic is not cannon compliant at all, but just enjoy the dumpster fire of a fic I created :)

The research Evie had trusted her with, had lead to another dead end. Defeated, she had shuffled through the train car in search of Evie to relay the bad news. Evie's voice indicated she was in the den, but another soft voice had Y/N pressing herself against the wall.   
Shame flooded her for a second, eavesdropping was rude, but her curiosity won over in the end. A small smile played at her lips at the bashful exchange between the two. The subtle flirting had her feeling giddy inside. In her mind Evie and Henry were a match made in heaven, and she'd been watching the romance blossom between the two. 

"Spying are we?" 

That smooth voice, tickling the shell of her ear made her jump. Her cheeks flamed red at being caught. It didn't help that the person who caught her had to be Jacob Frye of all people. The smug bastard would hold this over her head for weeks to come. 

"It's not what you think…" 

She knew it was a lame excuse, and by the quirk of his brow he conveyed that it was exactly what he thought. 

"I wonder how my dear ol' sis will take it when she finds out her best friend has taken up match making?" He pressed his gauntlet against the wall as he leaned close to her. "And when she finds out she's the main target."

The complete arrogance he conveyed had her shrinking against the wall. He was aware that he was in complete control of the conversation, and it amused him to no end to watch her squirm. 

"There aren't two people more perfect for each other…" She dared a glance up at him. Her statement seemed to briefly catch him off guard. He straightened, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. His next words were muttered under his breath. If her hearing wasn't so keen she would have missed it. 

"I can think of two people more deserving."

Before she could inquire further he had already made his presence known in the next room. Y/N could already feel the tension in the next room grow. Evie's obvious annoyance at her younger twin interrupting a shared moment with Henry.

"Careful Greenie, my sister seems to be having another fit again." 

"A fit you say?" 

Y/N made her way into the room to find Evie ready to explode. 

"You nearly wrecked England's economy!" She cried.

"Nearly Evie, key word." He said lounging on the sofa. 

"Nearly? If fath-" Y/N was quick to intercede. 

"Jacob was just about to brief me on a party Starrick will be attending." She said shooting a pointed glance at Jacob. 

Mirth danced in his eyes at the sight of Evie being worked up once again by his antics. "Yes, I was. A party your dear friend offered to go to in your place." 

Evie's shoulders relaxed a bit, "no rib crushing contraption for me then?" 

"Precisely." Y/N said with a nod. "Starrick is unaware of my involvement with the brotherhood, so it is possible that I may be able to glean some information from him."

Evie's eyes ran over her figure a moment, "with a bit of cleaning up I suppose you're exactly the type of woman Starrick would take an interest in."

"Yes, but how far are you willing to go for information?" Henry asked thoughtfully. "The most you could carry is a knife, which you would only have access to if you were…" Henry coughed, rubbing a hand up his neck. 

"I believe the word you're looking for is undressed Henry." Jacob chimed in. His voice was taut as he shifted into a sitting position on the couch. "Which at that point Starrick will put two and two together, and her throat will be slit faster than either of us can blink." 

"Then I'll go unarmed." Y/N said simply. 

"You expect us to let you walk in there unarmed and alone, right into Starricks arms?" Jacob inquired.

"I think the plan is bloody brilliant!" Evie said excitedly. "Think about it, if he decides he likes you he may start inviting you to other places as well." 

"A double agent infiltrating Templar ranks?" Henry interrupted, catching onto Evie's plan.

Jacob scoffed, "do you even realize what you're asking?" He said standing up, "you're asking your best friend to not only court the Templar Grandmaster, but warm his bed as well?" He cried, exasperated at Evie's schemes. "He could break her neck like a twig if he got the slightest hint that she's an assassin."

Evie rolled her eyes, "don't act like Y/N can't protect herself. She's a trained killer." 

"So is Starrick!" Jacob cried, throwing his hands up. "When she's caught in a Templar den, surrounded by a bunch of highly trained Templars her odds of survival drop to zero!"

"Oh just admit it Jacob, you can't stand the thought of another man touching her." Evie said brushing him off. 

Jacob froze, and Evie's shoulder's stiffened the moment she realized what she had said. "Jake, I didn't mean...it slipped." She said softly, as if she were trying to approach a startled deer. 

Jacob brushed past her, slamming the car door behind him. Y/N's jaw had gone slack as her eyes darted between Henry and Evie. 

Evie looked shameful, her hand covering her mouth as she sat down at the desk. She was still in shock over the secret she'd accidentally let slip.

"Evie..." Y/N began.

"You should get ready for the party." Evie's voice sounded hollow. "We've been waiting to infiltrate the Templars ranks for years. We can't waste this opportunity." Evie's crystal gaze seemed miles away. 

Y/N's eyes darted between Evie and Henry. He only offered her a shrug, as if this was another feud between the Fryes he'd rather not get involved in. With a sigh she left the two to scheme up their next plan. 

She could expect very little help from Evie with getting ready, which left her with only one option. Find a Rook willing to stuff her into a gown. 

She was lucky enough to find a few female Rooks occupying the bar car who agreed to assist.

White knuckles gripped the table as the lacings were pulled tight. "How tight do you want it ma'am?"

"As tight as it'll go." She gritted. She had concluded that Starrick's suspicions would be laid to rest if she appeared overtly vain. No assassin would dare to waltz into a ball in a contraption they couldn't breath in...right? 

The deep red satin skirt hung heavy on her hips, and the shoulder sleeves left her feeling bare and exposed. After inspecting her reflection in the mirror she concluded that she could appeal to any man with minimal effort. "I"ll be right surprised if Mr. Starrick leaves your side at all tonight." One of the Rooks concluded. 

Y/N offered her a kind smile, "thank you Emma." 

She grabbed the shawl wrapping it around her shoulders before making her way off the train. She was able to exit at (train station). Her next objective was to find a carriage.

•

••

•

Jacob watched the swish of a red dress disappearing into a carriage. A frown pulled at his lips. It was just like Evie to get her way. The mission was the only thing that mattered to her. When he had returned to the train car to plead his case once more she had quoted their father at him, "don't let personal feelings compromise the mission."

It had mattered very little that the mission involved her best friend. She could be extremely shrewd at times, and there was little he could do or say that would change her mind. 

The carriage was easy to catch. In a flash he'd opened the door and seated himself across from her. A look of shock was plain on her face, and a bit of fear once she realized she was unarmed. A scowl quickly appeared on her face as soon as she recognized him. "Jacob Frye! How dare you scare me like that!" She hissed slapping him with her fan. 

"Oi, I was only checking in love." He said, and a blush dusted her cheeks at the word "love." The unresolved tension from earlier hung in the air. 

Y/N was the first to look away, giving Jacob the chance to take her in. She was stunning. The dress complimented her soft skin, and the low neckline of the dress created a beautiful decolletage. He'd never seen so much skin on the assassin, and greedily his eyes hungered for more. He had to avert his hazel eyes, "you won't have any issues catching Starrick's eye in that."

(E/c) eyes flickered down at the ensemble. "Evie will be thrilled." She muttered. 

Jacob leaned forward capturing her chin in his hand tilting her gaze up into his hazel pools. "I'll be on the rooftops, if there are any issues signal me and I'll get you out of there." 

To his surprise she threw her arms around him engulfing him in a hug. "Thank you Jacob." She pulled away quickly, "perhaps I'm more nervous than I thought." 

Jacob quirked a smile, "I'll be there if you need me love." With a soft kiss to the back of her hand, he disappeared out of the carriage and into the night. 

•

••

•

She steadied her breathing as the carriage pulled up to the stone mansion. The carriage driver assisted her out the carriage. Her sides were already aching as she made her way up the steps of the house. She fanned herself in hopes that it would draw more oxygen into her lungs, but it was no use. Many eyes were drawn her way when she stepped into the gardens. Satisfaction grew inside when she noticed even the Grandmaster had paused mid sentence to stare. She threw him a small smirk before heading towards the dance floor.

The bait was laid, and all she had to do was wait for him to bite. Her eyes were about to dart to the rooftops when she felt a hand press into the small of her back. "I don't believe I have made your acquaintance."

His voice was elegant, and refined. One would suppose it was due to good breeding, and coming from a proper upbringing. "I very much doubt it Sir, I just arrived in London not three days ago." She turned to face him, but found herself even closer to him as he guided her closer with his hands. 

"Dance with me." It wasn't a request, he was a man who was used to being in control.

"I take it you always get your way?" She inquired as he lead her to the center of the dance floor.

"I'm a man who knows what he wants, and you look like a woman who knows what she wants."

Her lips quirked up, "I confess my strong will has lead me into trouble at times."

"A rose among the weeds, beautiful to look at, but painful for those who cannot handle the thorns." His palm felt solid on her waist, and she caught his eyes drinking in her figure that was on display. 

"Have you handled many roses then?" 

She found herself chest to chest with him. His eyes were hypnotic, and his body radiated power and control. A shiver went down her spine as his fingers trailed up her back. "Never one so sweet."

His lips were dangerously close, and propriety was insisting she pull away. She was unsure if it was the corset making her pant, or her heart that pounded dangerously inside her chest. 

A smoke bomb went off, and the shuffling of feet could be heard. She felt hands pulling her from behind. Crawford's arms felt like a steel cage as they tightened around her. She was being pulled in both directions. "Let go of her." That snarl could only belong to one man. 

"This has made the game more interesting Jacob." The smoke had started to clear and Starrick's expression was predatory. Cold steel pressed against her throat, and Jacob immediately froze. "What would Jacob Frye do to save a rose?"

"Let her go, this is between you and me Starrick." 

Starrick touted, "I suspect she is an assassin. More's the pity, she would have looked absolutely divine spread across my desk." Gloved fingers tightened around her esophagus. She fought desperately to pry his fingers off. "I wish this had been under more sensual circumstances." His low voice tickled the shell of her ear.

Panic flooded Jacob's eyes, until a lucky blow found its mark. Y/N could feel the hard impact of bone against her elbow. It was enough for him to loosen his grip. Jacob sprung to action pulling her to him and grappling to the nearest rooftop. He took off across the rooftops. Y/N doing her best to find any speed quicker than a brisk walk. Jacob realizing she wasn't close behind, stopped to find her picking her way across the roof. "Why did you lace that thing so bloody tight?!" He cried.

"Why did you decide to ruin the mission?!" She countered. 

"I rescued you from that man's skeevy arms!" 

A roll of her (e/c) eyes was all she replied, "just find us a carriage. I can't run in this!"

Jacob was quick to zipline them to the ground. He found a small carriage and unceremoniously stuffed her in. She hadn't even seated herself when the carriage jolted forward, throwing her into the leather seat. "Can this thing go any faster?" She cried finding several blighters on their tail. 

"I'm sorry your highness, did you want to drive?" Jacob quipped back. 

A gunshot echoed behind them. "Glad to know I got dressed up for my funeral." She shouted angrily.

"Oh, Y/N I've been in worse spats than this. We are perfectly fine." He said simply. It wasn't a second later when another carriage slammed into the left side of theirs. Y/N wished she hadn't gazed out the window. It all seemed to happen too quickly. Jacob had taken a sharp turn onto the bridge when the blighter carriage had slammed into theirs. The world was upside down a moment, and Y/N knew she was headed right for the Thames. 

Jacob had been thrown out of his seat when the carriage tipped over. He braced himself for the cold water. When he surfaced he found the carriage slipping below the water's surface. It was then that it dawned on him that Y/N would be stuck. He dove under searching blindly for the carriage. The murky Thames making visibility poor. He found a window and began to smash through it. He pulled her body through the window, but found the dress was stuck. His hidden blade set to work shredding any material he could get his hands on. When the dress finally loosened, he pulled her free and pulled them up to the surface.

The shore wasn't far and she was barely breathing. As soon as they reached shore he cut the lacings. She coughed up water, gulps full of air burning her lungs. She was freezing, and the white shift sticking to her skin made her realize how exposed she was. "J-j-j-a-a-cob Fr-r-rye," her teeth clattered as shivers wracked her body. 

"Shh love," he said softly as his eyes ran down her, inspecting her for any damage. Self consciously she covered her chest. The shift was extremely see-through while wet, and she was mortified the younger Frye twin had practically seen everything at this point. To her surprise there was no trace of smugness in his eyes. Only concern, and possible guilt. 

"Let's get you back to the train before you freeze." He said simply. 

"I cant walk around London like this." She said gazing down at her stockings that were caked with sand.

Jacob looked her up and down, "I think this is the best you've looked yet." Hazel eyes flickered down at sopping linen that was barely hanging onto her body. 

"My eyes are up here Mr. Frye." She dead panned. She immediately got to her feet. "Well I suppose if I'm to be a trollop, I shall be the best trollop London has ever seen." She set off towards the train tracks, shoulders back and head held high.

Jacob's head cocked to the side, how he loved a woman with spunk. However, he was just starting to realize just how see through that shift was. If there was anything Jacob Frye considered himself to be, a gentleman was one of them. He was quick to remove his over coat and soon engulfed her in it. A shiver ran down her spine when the dripping coat hit her shoulders. He scooped her up in his arms, and he was surprised to find out how light she was in his arms. "Jacob!" She squeaked in surprise. 

"Now come love, a gentleman wouldn't let a lady stroll about the streets in her undergarments."

"A gentleman wouldn't have made me go for a swim either." She grumbled. 

His chest rumbled with a chuckle. "I am taking you for a moonlight stroll, and what's more romantic than that?" He inquired. "All in all, I would say this was a successful date." 

She sputtered, "a successful date?" 

"Fancy clothes, a carriage ride, an evening swim, a moonlit stroll, and you're almost completely naked. What more could I have done to make it a success?" 

A blush stained her cheeks, "pray, what gave you the notion that we are on a date?" 

A smirk spread across his lips, "you never denied that we were on a date, besides there are some positively wicked things I've wanted to do to you all evening."

"I think this whole night started, because your jealousy got the best of you Jacob." 

His grip tightened on her, "what do I have to be jealous about love? My hands are the ones touching your arse not Starrick's." His breath tickled her ear as it lowered an octave, "and what a lovely arse it is." 

"Why haven't you said anything?" Her voice sounded small. Unsure if this was a conversation the two should have. 

He sighed, "I never thought you'd give a bloke like me a second glance." He said with a simple shrug. 

"Jacob, you literally stuffed me ass first into a carriage, then proceeded to wreck said carriage in the Thames. I should be pissed, but honestly it's a little endearing. I know you mean well." Her hand came up to cup his face, and a small blush appeared on his cheeks.

"What in the bloody hell did you do Jacob?" Evie's voice snapped the two at attention. 

"The mission was a success Evie!" Jacob said with a grin. 

"Starrick’s men are all over London looking for you two! You wrecked a carriage off the bridge, and Y/N where on earth are your clothes?" 

"The bottom of the Thames…" she said sheepishly. 

"The mission was an utter disaster!" Evie cried. 

"That is where you are wrong. Your mission was a disaster, mine was an utter success." Jacob said proudly. "Now if you don't mind dear sis, I would recommend staying far away from my train car for the rest of the evening." He leaned closer to his sister, "I have plucked a rose from Starrick's garden that I plan to worship thoroughly."


	9. Frozen Buildings (Ezio Auditore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the request, and sorry it took me so long!  
Request:  
Love this!! please write an Ezio one?? If u don't have any ideas maybe one in the winter time cause let's be honest here it's cold af how do them assassin's ACTUALLY be climbing on them cold slippery surfaces??? If u do have an idea tho ignore my dumbassery

November had hit Roma. Icicles clung to the Colosseum, and white frost dusted the tile rooftops. The cold was bone deep, and the more years that passed the more aches and pains the dark haired assassin felt. As a young man he enjoyed the cold air. He didn't feel exhausted after a chase across the rooftops like he did in the heat.   
At his age the cold always brought the fear of straining, or cramping anything while Ezio went about his missions. He took his role of mentor seriously. His pupil, a (petite/curvy/lean) woman with a brilliant mind and quick feet accompanied him this morning. 

She rubbed her hands together, breathing into them to find any form of warmth. Her hot breath gave only a moment of relief for her frozen fingers.

Today was the perfect time to practice climbing icy buildings. Ezio stood close to the woman instructing her on which footholds to grab, and what to do in the event of slipping. Her body was a distraction. What little heat she was radiating he could feel, and he assumed that's why she huddled so close to him. He knew she was taking in his heat clinging to any warmth she could find, because her body failed to produce an adequate supply. 

"Give it a go." He gestured to the wall. 

Her (e/c) gaze was filled with doubt at the task at hand. Ezio placed his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. "I'll catch you if you fall." Her bright eyes flickered up to his. She found comfort in his grey eyes, and she knew he would be there if she fell. 

She took a deep breath, watching the air mist on her exhale as she brought her focus to the task at hand. The stucco building was cold beneath her fingertips. She scaled the building, mindful of the footings she grabbed. Her mentor had chosen a low building in the event she fell. Sometimes she felt as if he treated her like glass. Worried any misstep, would leave her shattered on the ground. It was nice to feel as if someone cared, but she worried for her mentor. He'd lost too many people, and the man kept it hidden well. Ezio didn't have any comfort, he seemed to carry his demons alone. 

(Y/N) couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but she couldn't deny she found the older Italian attractive. He seemed oblivious to her crush. He was all business, all the time. She kept her fantasies buried deep, lest she lose her mentor entirely. 

Ezio was observing her progress. She was doing extremely well, taking her time, but he saw it before it happened. He knew she was distracted. In the blink of an eye her foot slipped before she could get a proper grip and she was falling through the air. True to his word Ezio waited at the bottom to catch her. She was only about 7 or 8 feet off the ground, but she came crashing into his arms, and the pair landed in a pile on the cobblestones.

"Mentor! Are you alright?!" She asked, as she heard a wheezing breath. The Italian had broken her fall, but had also gotten the wind knocked out of him in the process. 

"I just need a minute." His deep voice sounded like honey. Slowly he sat up, and she realized she was practically sitting in his lap. His hands gently ran up her body as he inspected her for any injuries. He breathed a sigh of relief, "you gave me quite the scare bella."

Her breath caught in her throat at the word bella. Perhaps he felt the same way? "You're freezing." He said, pulling her closer to him. She relaxed against him. Enjoying the feel of his solid frame against hers, and the warmth that slowly filled her. 

"Perhaps we should get off the cold ground?" (Y/N) suggested. Ezio was quick to get up offering her a hand. She accepted his assistance, as he pulled her off the ground. 

"Maybe we could continue this indoors?" (Y/N) inquired, her cheeks flushing at her own boldness. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of Ezio's lips. “I had no idea you felt the same way.” He took a step towards her, as his voice dropped an octave lower. His fingers gently rubbing up her arm, soliciting a blush from the woman. 

“I just thought we could begin lessons on something more suited for the indoors.” Her long lashes batted up at him feigning innocence. 

“Perhaps we could teach each other something…” Ezio said his fingers tilting her chin up towards him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, as a hungry look came over his face.

He had promised himself he would never look at his pupil this way. He’d felt guilty every time he’d snuck quick glances at her, but currently he was blatantly staring at the woman. His intentions written clearly on his face for her to read. He reasoned that she could leave, and if she was smart she’d run back to the bureau and demand a new mentor immediately. This would most likely end badly, but perhaps the two could be happy together? Most women left as soon as he opened up. Not that he could blame them. He was a dangerous man with too many skeletons in his closet, and too many people who wanted to kill him. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” She inquired, and he didn’t hesitate to press his lips against hers. He cupped her face, his fingers tangling in her (dark/light) locks. When they finally parted her eyes fluttered up at him, and the two found themselves breaking out into a smile. 

“Come bella.” He said grabbing her hand, pulling her towards the bureau. 

*

**

*

His personal quarters were warm, as a fire blazed from the hearth. Ezio placed her in a large cushioned chair by the fire. “Wait here.” He instructed disappearing behind a screen. He returned promptly with two glasses, and a bottle of wine. 

“This should warm you up mi cara.” Ezio said, handing her a glass of red liquid. 

“Grazie.” She said taking a sip of the spiced elixir. “Will you take your hood off?” Her voice came fast, and her cheeks had a soft flush to them. 

Ezio’s eyes lit up at the question, “mi dispiace, it’s a habit.” He confessed pulling the white fabric back to reveal his chocolate locks. 

“I like you better without the hood...you have kind eyes.” She said softly, as she took another drink of liquid courage. Ezio smiled, sitting his glass on the table next to the chair. He placed himself between her knees as he kneeled in front of her, so the two were eye level. His thumbs rubbed small circles on her thighs, causing her heart to flutter. 

She leaned forward, and he captured her lips in a kiss. His dark tresses were soft against her finger tips. He let out a low hum at the soft tugging on his hair. She parted her lips deepening the kiss. 

His feathered bed was plush, and the silken sheets were divine against her skin. She let out a content sigh as he peppered her body with kisses, and she slipped off into a sensual intimacy that would keep bringing her back for more.

**

She awoke to the crackling of the fireplace. Her gaze lingering around the unfamiliar room. Ezio’s breath blew softly against her neck. She attempted to silently slip out of the bed when strong arms pulled her back. 

“Mi cara,where are you going? Our lessons have only just begun.” He said, peppering soft kisses against her neck. 

A delighted hum escaped her lips, “then let us begin...mentor."


End file.
